


Bed & Breakfast

by KyraEleison



Category: Actor RPF, American Actor RPF
Genre: Blow Job, F/M, NSFW, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, RPF, Romance, Shameless Smut, Smut, wake up head
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 18:29:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6387823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyraEleison/pseuds/KyraEleison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A perfect way to start a perfect day. Morning blow job before coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bed & Breakfast

The soft groan fits perfectly into the sensuous background music of the rain, clattering hypnotically, deepening my senses. The room is pulsating around us like a misty dream, dancing on the very edge of imagination and reality.

But it’s not just a fantasy. I’m wide awake. He feels smooth and warm under my fingertips as I make sure not to let a single spot out of my reach, caressing lustful little messages onto the skin. He’s shifting on the pillows with delight, eagerly giving into the sweet temptation of me luring him out of that peaceful slumber. His mind might be one step behind but his body is already one step ahead.

I have the perfect spot to devour the sight while sitting on my heels between his long legs. The luscious agony of my nails tenderly digging into the flesh of his inner thighs, sliding down slowly to the knees.

“Rise and shine, little monkey.” I change my position without a warning, making sure he’s divested of even the smallest chance to get ready for my approach before whispering into the curve of his neck. A lustful shiver running through him, leaving me hungrier with every second but I won’t rush my chance.

The thought of having him under me exposed and ready leaves me shaking with excitement, barely being able to suppress the rush in my veins. I shall have him for breakfast and I will have him like a real gourmand should, for he is too much of a superior course not to relish in every bite.

“Needless to say, but it’s already risen.” His fingers sneak into my hair, pulling my head back with a firm move, using just enough power to have our eyes meet, holding me tightly in place. It hurts so good, a loud moan escapes from my lips. I can only dream of keeping the control safe within my hands when all the concentration is consumed by the struggle to lift my hips higher, avoiding to meet the stiffness of his elation.

He’s obedient but we both know he’s aiming to be in charge. I don’t mind having the illusion of overpowering him in any way, yet he’s a constant threat. He feeds my beliefs just to turn them around and have me whimpering his name in the final accords of the catharsis.

Lust evaporates from every pore of his body and I know I smell the same. His green eyes are staring into mine, compelling and mesmerized. I swear I could swim in the black waters of those dilated pupils that are eating me alive. The insane yearning keeps on howling in the back of my head, rushing me to give into it and get lost, bathe myself into the flames and burn with him.

Our looks remain entwined as I move slowly, planning to demonstrate how much my core aches for him.

There’s nothing he could do.

He’s lying under me, almost helpless and I’m taking my time. Giving him only a taste before raising myself back again, his hips trying to follow mine. He hisses with disappointment, a voracious sparkle flickering in his eyes.

“Where is the democracy?” His chin looks appetizing so I lean in to give it a bite, enjoying the soft scratches of the slight stubble.

“What democracy?”

His head falls back on the pillows as soon as I reach him again, grazing against his massive hardness. This is a dictatorship. I dictate and his body follows as the blood gently turns into lava.

He’s ready for a ride but I’m not planning on giving into his grasping demands. I’m moving at a solid pace, sliding all the way up and all the way down, guiding his length right between my folds. Lubricating him with my blazing devotion. I can feel the gentle vibration of his muscles, his hips moving in sync with mine. My name sounds like a magic spell from his lips, whispering it over and over again with ecstasy. His hands are greedy, groping for new spots to grab on my body, pulling me closer with every thrust.

Saying that feeling him is divine would be a shameless understatement. He’s the definition of every fantasy I ever had, planted into a human form. Instinctively knowing my darkest secrets and desires, fulfilling the needs I never thought I had.

His chest is heaving like the ocean during a storm as the speed of my teasing session lightly decreases. I drop my head back, grabbing at the arms around my waist. The contact breaks between our bodies, he’s instantly reacting with a deep groan to express the weight of his torment. I ease his doubts with a kiss, sucking on his lower lip to prove my point.

I sit back between his legs, devouring the sight of him throbbing with desire. The very touch of my hands leaves him breathless for a moment. Every careful move is followed by his eyes. He’s watching with awe, unable to settle for only the role of the perceiver. He’s observing, making sure to fulfill the claims of each one of his senses.

I paint on his lower abdomen with the tip of my tongue, outlining the picture before coloring my masterpiece. His body language keeps on telling me how much he appreciates this special type of fine art while receiving it with the enthusiasm of a hungry wolf, keeping my ears busy with the sound of his pleasure. He’s expecting me to extend the foreplay but he’s not expecting me to launch an attack against his most sensitive spots. My kisses alternate with nibbles along the inner thighs, grinning shamelessly against his flesh. I know he’s going to aim for revenge later, but right now, I’m embracing every last drop of power I own over him.

The rain keeps us safe in our bubble, muffling the hazy morning noises, creating a whole new dimension of existence and I’m floating on the idea of love. There’s no need to waste a second thought about the meaning, getting lost in a maze of twisted explanations of what it might be. Love was never meant to be defined or understood. It was meant to be lived through. It was meant to be cherished.

The expression on his face is priceless, yet I can still enhance the conditions. He’s setting on fire under my touch, the green irises glowing in the semi-darkness as we finally give into the ultimate craving. His mouth gaping with rapture.

I leave butterfly kisses along his shaft, my lips barely touching the delicate skin. I’m not hesitating to share my thoughts with him, confessing all of my fantasies about having him deep inside of me, my walls tight around his extent.

“…what are you doing to me…”

I seal the assertion with an unhurried stroke of my tongue, one after another, tasting myself on him and he’s more than ready to be feasted on. My fingers lock around his cock, twisting the grip lightly as I move it up and down. He’s gliding easily, adapting to the speed, getting in sync with me.

His fingers snake into my hair, caressing it out of my face as a real white knight should, granting me a struggle free chance to take him into my mouth.

I run my tongue around the rim before letting him deeper, the grasp remaining intense at the base. I’m not in a rush though I can tell he’s almost ready. The long, slow moves keep on altering with quick ones, my hands never stop and I feel him stiffening up even more. His back arching against the bed as I suck on the tip and the world stops for a second before turning into a red hot blur of satisfaction. He’s moaning my name in the heat of the delirium as I fervently taste him on my tongue.

The muscles are clenching under his skin, shuddering all over his big, beautiful body. I can’t get enough of the irresistible phenomena, watching him riding the climax to the limit and beyond.

I reposition myself, kneeling above his chest while admiring the view. His bed hair has turned into sex hair and I hungrily run my fingers through it, biting on my lip to try and hide a grin while waiting patiently for him to find a voice again.

“Morning head: check.” I let him regenerate with a tender forehead kiss.

He’s returning a look that ensures me, I wasn’t the only one ordering breakfast in bed.


End file.
